


The Good Part

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Trefoil Knot [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Collars, Cuffs, Dom!John, Dom!Sherlock, Double Anal Penetration, Incest, Leashes, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Slash, Smut, Sub!Mycroft, Threesome - M/M/M, crawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt:</p><p>Mycroft is Sherlock and John's pet. That is all. </p><p>Beta read by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110">Sherlock1110.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Part

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pet's Are Well Cared For](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141540) by [Sherlock1110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110). 



Mycroft was knelt, naked, in the middle of his living room. He felt a bit overwhelmed and dizzy. Everything had happened so fast, not that he was unused to making swift and decisive determinations, but this was different. This wasn't about politics or matters of life and death. This was about him giving up control. He swayed on his knees. Two large hands caught him by the shoulders, grounding him. A pair of calloused hands cupped his face.

"Are you alright, Mycroft?" John asked gently. "It's alright if you've changed your mind. Just use your safeword and we'll call this off."

Sherlock's hands squeezed his shoulders briefly.

Mycroft could call everything off right now and John would never mention it again. His brother would pout and be insufferable, but what else was new? Mycroft, though... He absolutely needed this. He was so tired of always being the British Government, of making the decisions, of being the responsible one and, above all, of never letting himself go. The floor grew firmer beneath his knees as the momentary vertigo passed. He met John's eyes with firm resolution and said simply, "Green, Sir."

The doctor leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the kneeling man's forehead. Sherlock brushed his lips across his nape and ordered, "Close your eyes, Pet."

Mycroft gave a little shiver at the use of the appellation and let his eyes flutter shut. Both John and Sherlock stood and backed away, leaving their new pet feeling oddly bereft. The feel of a collar being buckled around his neck caused a sharp intake of breath. This was real. This was happening. Every muscle in his body relaxed and he gave himself over completely. As a blindfold was put in place, John's rough hands fastened leather cuffs around his wrists. His arms were passed back to Sherlock who fastened them together with a clip as the doctor attached a leash to the collar.

In the artificial darkness, Mycroft felt the tug of the leash. He could tell by the sharpness of the tug that his brother was holding it, of course he was. He crawled, crawled, crawled, forcing himself to trust Sherlock, until he was brought up short, his face brushing against the side of his bed. His cock was hard and that made him feel vaguely ridiculous, humiliated. He willed his brother not to say anything.

Sherlock brought his bare foot up to nudge at Mycroft's erection. His brother was talking, the government official knew he was, but the hard press of flesh against his cock was distracting. Just a bit more pressure and Sherlock could really hurt him. John's hand in his hair forced his head back painfully.

"One moment, Love," John addressed the detective. "Our pet seems to have been distracted." The doctor bent down and spoke low and dangerous into Mycroft's ear. "Your brother was offering you a choice, Pet. I suggest you listen well." He nipped at the tender flesh below his pet's ear.

Mycroft shivered, berating himself for his lapse. "Yes, Sir." He could hear Sherlock sit on the side of the bed. He knew it was him, because John hadn't released him yet.

Sherlock hummed. "I am going to fuck you, Pet, never doubt that, but I know what you really want. I know about your deepest desire, the thing you never have admitted, not even to yourself. You like to be filled, don't you, Pet. You play with your little... no, not so little toys all the time, alone, so sad."

Mycroft blushed furiously. So he liked a little stretch. What of it? He wasn't embarrassed, he wasn't, and his cock was not getting harder. The government official bit his tongue to make himself keep silent.

"Here's the good part," John whispered.

"Yessss," the detective drawled. "You can admit to being the cock slut that you are and take us both at once." Sherlock paused a beat. "Or you can take just me and suck John off."

God, what a choice. Mycroft wanted to say yes, he would take them both and he thought he probably could do it. He was well practised with quite a large dildo, but fantasy was one thing, reality quite another.

"You don't get to come unless you take us both," John warned him, then he added, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." He caressed Mycroft's chest with his free hand. "At the first sign of trouble, it all stops. You can trust me. You can trust us."

John and Sherlock watched as their pet swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing enticingly. Mycroft nodded, a frisson of arousal and fear sweeping through him. He must be insane to have agreed to this. What was he thinking?

The doctor's hands pushed Mycroft forward and Sherlock guided his mouth to his cock. The detective was pleased when their pet started licking at its head and then took him into his mouth.

John retrieved the lube and started working their pet open. He was slow and methodical in his actions. For what they were planning, Mycroft's muscles would need to be ridiculously relaxed.

Sherlock was right. Mycroft loved to be filled. He loved the stretch and even the slow aching burn. As John added each finger, he fought not to thrust back and fuck himself on the delicious intrusion of the doctor's fingers. The one time he slipped, his brother yanked him off of his cock by the hair and the doctor gave him a slap on his arse, barking, "Stop that!" Mycroft whined, but stopped moving immediately. Sherlock allowed him to resume his work and John continued stretching him open.

After what seemed an eternity, the doctor stood, pronouncing their pet ready. Sherlock lifted his brother up to sit back on his heels and repositioned himself slightly. "Okay, Pet. It's time." Though he couldn't see him, Mycroft could hear the lascivious smile that his brother was wearing. "You're going to climb into my lap, Pet, and sit on my cock."

His brother's dark voice sent shivers along his spine. Mycroft took a deep breath and inched forward, feeling for the bed with his hands. John was suddenly there, guiding him onto the bed and into position. He could feel Sherlock's cock nudging at his hole. He eased himself down, the head just penetrating him. John's hands on his shoulders pushed and he felt himself slide abruptly onto his brother's cock. He gasped at the feeling. It wasn't quite pain, but it bordered on it. Thankfully the doctor had done quite a good job of preparing him, but oh, God! Were those John's fingers nudging at his hole? Mycroft groaned as a single finger edged in by his brother's cock.

"Christ, Sherlock! You have to feel this," the doctor gasped with awe.

Now Sherlock's fingers were also nudging at the government official's stretched entrance. Mycroft shuddered, momentarily considering calling the whole thing off. Another of John's fingers worked its way inside, oh so carefully, then all movement stopped. Their pet concentrated on breathing. He could do that. He could do this.

"Alright, Pet?" John asked.

Mycroft gave a sweaty nod. "Green, Sir."

The doctor's fingers gently withdrew. Sherlock cradled his brother to his chest, murmuring little encouragements. "You're such a good pet. Relax and breath. You can do this for us, Pet. You want to do this. It's going to feel so good."

John came close to them, slotting himself between the detective's spread legs. Carefully, ever so slowly, he pushed his cock against Mycroft's stretched entrance. With Sherlock already seated inside him, their pet's passage was almost impossibly tight.

Mycroft tensed as a sharp spike of pain shot through him and he cried out, "Yellow!" The doctor backed off slightly and froze as their pet panted.

John rested his cheek on Mycroft's back, murmuring, "Shh. Hush. It's okay." After the government official's breath evened out, the doctor asked, "Do you need to call safeword?"

Mycroft considered. The pain had completely abated and John had stopped the moment he had called yellow. He could go on. "Green, Sir."

Still, the doctor hesitated.

"John," Sherlock admonished, "Our pet would like to continue. I would like to continue. He's not going to break."

John muttered something like 'impatient git' then started moving once again.

This time, the doctor was even more deliberate in his actions and took things even more slowly. If Mycroft hadn't been lost to the sensations, he would have been amazed that Sherlock stood for it, but despite everything, his brother didn’t want to see him hurt any more than John did.

Finally, finally John was seated inside him beside Sherlock. It felt... Mycroft had never felt anything like it. It was delicious. It was overwhelming, almost too much. He felt as if he were being split open, but it was good, then John began to move, cautiously at first and without rhythm.

Sherlock's hand wriggled into the tight space between them and took hold of Mycroft's cock. He let John's motion slide his pet's cock in his hand, giving it the odd calculated squeeze. The detective couldn't move, not really, but the friction of John's cock sliding against his and the incredible tightness of their pet around them both proved to be enough to drive him over the edge. The doctor continued to move in Mycroft even as Sherlock came. It was an odd sensation that he would analyse over and over in his Mind Palace. "Oh, such a good pet, Mycroft. We're going to keep you, chain you at the foot of the bed," Sherlock purred. "Would you like that?" Mycroft's release spurting over his brother's hand was answer enough. As his body went rigid, his internal muscles fluttered and contracted. The chain reaction continued and John, too, reached his climax.

The three men went mostly still, Mycroft shivering between Sherlock and John. He felt wrung out, sore and sated. The doctor pulled out first, causing their pet to grunt. Sherlock eased his brother to the side as he pulled out, helping him to lay on the bed. The detective stroked his pet's sides and arms soothingly as John padded off to fetch a flannel. Mycroft felt himself being cleaned. He was rolled onto his stomach and the doctor perfunctorily checked him for damage. The clip holding his wrists together was undone, but the cuffs were left in place. He followed the tug of the leash to what he deduced was the foot of the bed and listened as it was tied around the bedpost. Sherlock removed his blindfold and he blinked lazily at the light.

"Goodnight, Pet," the detective said, his voice full of an uncharacteristic tenderness, before bending to place a kiss on his forehead. He moved aside.

John draped a blanket over the drowsy government official. "Yes, Pet. Get a good night's rest." He stroked a hand through Mycroft's hair then added mischievously. "You'll need it."

For the first time in years, Mycroft didn’t dream of finance, politics or looming skirmishes in the middle east. Instead, he floated in a place of calm where he was able to surrender, a safe place, a haven created by Sherlock and John.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr.](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com)


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